Cynthia, still at work, met with Dr. Peterson in Dorothy Lovell's room to discuss her symptoms and recent test results. She had been having pains in her back and had coughed up a small amount of blood, but not recently. Her oxygen was a little low and her heart rate was elevated. Her x-rays didn't show anything abnormal and Dr. Peterson was perplexed.
"What other symptoms have you had," Cynthia asked the 40 year-old woman with salt and pepper hair.
"I've been coughing a lot in general," she replied.
"Anything else? Even if it doesn't seem related or hasn't been recent?" Cynthia asked.
"Not that I can recall." She paused. "Wait. I had a pain in my arm about two months ago. I thought I pulled a muscle but it didn't really feel like that. It seemed like it was more like some kind of swelling. It actually shrunk a little and moved down my arm and disappeared."
"That is very odd," Cynthia said. "Did the pain feel dull or like a really powerful pinch?"
"More like a pinch," she replied.
"Any thoughts, Dr. Parsons," asked Dr. Peterson.
"Maybe. Thanks for letting me visit with you, Mrs. Lovell," Cynthia said. "Dr. Peterson, why don't you and I go look at those x-rays again?"
"Okay," he replied. "See you later, Mrs. Lovell."
"Okay," the nervous woman replied.
Cynthia and Dr. Peterson left the room and walked a few feet down the hall when Cynthia grabbed his arm and stopped him.
"I didn't want to say this in front of her to cause her any undue concern, but I think I know what she has. Her symptoms are atypical but my best guess is that she's got a pulmonary embolism caused by deep vein thrombosis."
"From the swelling in her arm?" he asked.
"Yes. She's coughing and has coughed up blood, her oxygen is low and heart rate high, and her symptoms in her arm seem consistent with DVT." She continued, "I think you should start her on Coumadin right away before it gets out of hand. If that's what she has, she's lucky to be alive at all right now."
"Thanks, Cynthia. That never would have occurred to me," Dr. Peterson replied. "I don't know what we're all going to do while you're gone. You're a fantastic diagnostician."
"Thanks. You can always call me on the phone if you need to," she replied.
"I might. Well, I'm going to get her started on Coumadin. Thanks again, Dr. Parsons. I know this is your last day for a while so I'll say 'goodbye' again, and I'll look forward to your return," he said and then shook her hand.
After finishing up her day with some paperwork, Cynthia picked up her medical bag and walked out the front doors of the hospital, and stopped and turned around and scanned the building one more time before heading to her car.
She walked in her front door, but did not see Roger. "Roger?" she called.
"I'm in here," he replied.
She followed the voice to the soon-to-be-nursery. Standing in the doorway, she immediately noticed his big smile and him standing next to a brand new baby crib. She entered the room and asked, "Where did that come from?"
"I don't know," he said.
"Are you sure it's ours? It might have been delivered here by mistake," she said.
"Doesn't appear so. It definitely had our address on it," he replied.
"Well, I wonder who got this for us?"
"I was thinking my parents or yours."
"I'll give them both a call tonight to see if they did. This is a very generous gift," she said. She put her hands on the rail of the crib that had solid head and foot ends with drop rails on either side with a mattress. It was made of sturdy, quality wood with beautiful craftsmanship. "It really is quite nice."
"I thought so," he said, putting his arm around her shoulders. "What shall we do for dinner?"
"I think I'll just reheat some leftovers from last night, if that's okay," she said.
"Sounds fine. I'll just pick up in here and take all this mess out to the trash," he said.
"Okay."
Cynthia preheated the oven and put the leftovers in a baking dish and covered it while Roger took out the trash. She sat down and picked up the phone to call her parents.
"Hi, Mom."
"Oh, how are you dear?" her mother Deborah replied.
"I'm fine. You?"
"We're fine. Your father dropped a carburetor on his foot the other day, but it's better now." Deborah continued, "Your brother called yesterday. He and Janice found out she's pregnant and we're going to be grandparents a second time and you're going to be an aunt for the first. Isn't that exciting?"
"Wow. That is big news. I'm glad I called. When is she due?"
"Looks to be this coming January. Your brother is ecstatic. I'm just glad he got out of the military before all this Korea nonsense."
"I bet dad's thrilled too," Cynthia replied.
"He is. How's Roger and how's your work?"
"Roger's well. I had my last day at work today."
"How did that go?"
"Some doctors and nurses threw a going away party for me with cake. I ended the day with solving a difficult diagnosis for a patient," she said with a smile.
"That's a great note to end on. I know you're a terrific doctor. What else is up?" her mother asked. Roger walked into the kitchen and Cynthia acknowledged his presence with a nod.
"Listen, did you and Dad buy us a baby crib? It was delivered to us today."
"No, I'm afraid not, dear. We're going to bring you some baby clothes and other supplies on the day of your delivery. Do you need anything else?"
"Not that I can think of right now. Is dad there?"
"No. He's at the Rubinstein Community Center."
"Oh. Tell him I called. Were you still planning on coming out to the house next weekend?"
"Definitely."
"Great. We'll catch up then. I have to finish putting dinner together. I'll see you next weekend. Love you. Tell dad I love him too."
"I will, dear."
"Goodbye."
"Goodbye."
Cynthia hung up the phone. "My parents didn't buy us the crib."
"Then my parents probably did," Roger replied.
Cynthia put the leftovers in the oven to warm them up. "Why don't you call them while I pick up the living room."
"Okay. How long until dinner?"
"About a half an hour," Cynthia said as she headed into the living room. She began picking up magazines and looking at their expiration dates to see which she could throw out and which ones she'd like to keep if she hadn't read them yet. After sorting and restacking the magazines, she picked up books and put them back on shelves. Roger had a tendency to leave his law books around the house without putting them back in the bookshelf. She went to the hall closet to retrieve a dust cloth and lightly dusted the living room – nothing rigorous, since she thought dusting was pointless. She sat back down and pulled out the television schedule from Sunday's paper and placed it on the coffee table and put the newspaper on the magazines-to-discard pile. She grabbed the recent Life magazine and sat down on the couch and put her feet up on the coffee table.
Roger entered the living room, "My parents didn't get us the crib either. They send their best and say they are planning to come out here the end of October." He flopped down on the couch next to Cynthia and put his arm around her.
Cynthia said, "My mother told me that Robert and Janice found out she was pregnant and she's due this coming January."
"Oh, that's great! You'll be an aunt at the same time you'll be a mother, and our little boy or girl will have a cousin his or her age. I loved my siblings, but I had the most fun with my cousin growing up." Roger grinned. "Oh, the trouble we got into…."
Cynthia looked at him askance. "I wonder who got that crib for us. Was there a card or a note attached or anything on the packing slip?"
"Not that I could find. I'm sure whoever got it for us will come out of the woodwork soon." Just then the kitchen timer dinged and Cynthia started to get up to prepare dinner. "Sit down and relax, Cindy. I'll take care of it," Roger said as he got up to get dinner ready. Cynthia sat leafing through the issue of Life magazine.
Once dinner was served, the two sat down at the kitchen table and began eating and talking about plans for the nursery and baby.
"I guess all we need for the nursery now is a changing table and a dresser for the baby's clothes," Cynthia said.
"Looks like it," Roger said before taking a bite of food.
"What do you think about what Beth said about having a system for baby names?" Cynthia asked.
"What kind of system were you thinking of?" he asked.
"I'm not sure. I'm open to suggestions," she replied.
"Hmmm. Well, if it's a boy, I don't want him to be a 'junior'. That seemed to put a lot of unconscious pressure on my elder brother."
"Seems reasonable," she said. "What do you think about incorporating our parents' names somehow?"
"I think that would be a nice tribute," Roger replied. He continued, "Were you thinking about first names or middle names?"
"I think that middle would be better since your first name tends to be most tied to your identity and it should probably not be someone else's name….kind of like your observation about the sons who are juniors."
"Okay. How about this?" Roger continued, "You come up with girl names and I'll come up with boy names. What do you think about taking a page from Beth and giving a girl your first initial and a boy, mine?"
"That would certainly make it easier to narrow it down," she replied. "Let me see if I have this straight: I'm coming up with girls' names that start with 'C.' Which maternal grandparent for the middle name?"
"Well, since our baby girl would have your first initial, why not make her middle name my mother's name?"
"My mother might be hurt," she replied.
"She might, but maybe you can find a tribute for her with our baby's first name. Besides, we're going to have at least one other child, aren't we?"
"Yes," she replied.
"Then there will be at least one other opportunity for your mother provided we have a girl," he said.
"So, I'll come up with C-Joanne names," she said.
"Yes. And I'll come up with R-Jacob names," he replied.
"Sounds like a system," Cynthia said.
The two finished eating, cleaned up the dishes together, and retired to the living room. They both put their feet on the coffee table. Roger put his arm over her shoulders while Cynthia relaxed her head against his shoulder as they watched the evening's television offerings.